


Healing Is Not Linear

by Calamity123



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Blood and Gore, Catholic Guilt, Drug Use, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Guilt, Sexual Assault, Shooting, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamity123/pseuds/Calamity123
Summary: “I’m going to take you to dinner, Detective, to celebrate your first display of competency.”





	1. Casual

Sonny Carisi had received his Bar exam results the previous week, and he’d passed with flying colors. He had already thanked Barba for his help, but he’d balked when he tried to ask the man out to dinner; a small celebration for passing the exam was a perfect excuse to finally pull the trigger. 

A week after he had received the results, however, Carisi realized that the window to use the excuse would only last so long. As such, he found himself sitting on a courthouse bench one Friday afternoon fiddling with decoy files. He knew Barba was just at an arraignment, so chances were his mood wouldn’t be _that_ bad. The courtroom door swung open and Barba dashed towards the exit. Carisi leapt off his bench and stumbled toward Barba. 

“Counselor, wait up,” Carisi shouted. Barba slowed but didn’t turn around. “Counselor, I’d like to take you to dinner. As a thank–” 

“No,” Barba shot back, barely glancing at him. 

“Oh, yeah,” Carisi said as deep red blush spread up his neck and over his cheeks, “yeah, of course. I figured not. You’re a busy guy,” 

“I’m going to take you to dinner, Detective, to celebrate your first display of competency,” Barba said, “I’ll text you the name of the restaurant. See you at eight.” Barba pushed the elevator button and left Carisi standing speechless in 1 Hogan Place. 

…

Carisi hailed a cab back to the precinct, overthinking the invitation the entire way there. 

_But it wasn’t an invitation. It was… a command? That’s just Barba’s personality, it doesn’t mean anything. Why would he want to take me out?_ Sonny thought.

_He doesn’t even like me_ , Sonny reasoned. _It's a goddamn pity dinner is what it is. I should have said no. I should have –_

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of his cell phone against his hip. 

Carisi unlocked his phone to find two texts from his sister.

* _u busy 2nite?_ *

* _ma wants 2 take u out 2 celebrate_ *

Carisi hesitated. If he told his sister that he would be busy, he would have to tell her why, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to delve into that. He shook his head as if to clear any thoughts of his dinner with Barba being more than a casual meal between colleagues. There really wasn’t anything to tell. 

* _Sorry, im busy..._ * he shot back quickly. 

As predicted, Bella required an explanation.

* _?????_ *

Carisi responded with mostly the truth.

* _Celebrating with a lawyer I’ve been shadowing – he offered to take me to dinner. First nice thing the guys ever done for me so I’m gonna go_ * 

He shot off a second text. 

* _We can celebrate with ma and dad next weekend_ *

He slipped his phone back into his pocket just as the cab arrived at the precinct. 

…

Carisi spent the better part of the afternoon anxiously filling out paperwork. In between wondering why said paperwork hadn’t gone digital yet, he couldn’t stop glancing at his phone to make sure he hasn’t missed a message from Barba. 

Carisi was normally able to focus on his work no matter what was happening in the rest of his life, but this was uncharted territory. He had never been the nervous one in relationships before. He was always smooth. Confident. In control. 

It was just past six when his phone buzzed again. 

* _Le Toit. See you at eight._ *

Carisi’s lips pressed tightly together to keep from smiling. He jumped up from his desk, rather clumsily knocking a cup of pens over in the process.

“Hey, Rollins, I’ll see ya Monday,” said Carisi, pulling on his coat. She glanced up from her paperwork and mumbled a half-hearted goodbye. 

…

When Carisi arrived back at his apartment, he took a quick shower and dressed in fresh clothes. He slathered his hair in gel, dabbed a bit of cologne on his neck, and punched the name of the restaurant into his phone to get an address. He nearly gasped when he realized the location: the fifty-second floor of the Four Seasons. _As if I wasn’t anxious enough,_ he thought. 

Carisi sat on the couch, careful not to muss his styled hair and wrinkle-free shirt. He switched on the TV to catch up on his recorded episodes of Law and Order, but he couldn’t help glancing at the clock every 30 seconds and will it to move faster. He tried to focus on picking out inaccuracies in the show instead. 

7:30 finally arrived and Carisi deemed it an acceptable time to take a cab to the restaurant. The taxi dropped him off across the street from the hotel. He swiped his card and offered the driver a quick word of thanks. 

As Carisi crossed the street, he agonized over whether he should go to the top-floor restaurant alone or wait for Barba. Before he could make a decision, a sleek black Porsche pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. A valet opened the back-passenger door and out stepped a tuxedoed Rafael Barba. Carisi froze at the realization that he was painfully underdressed.

Barba pulled his phone out of his pocket and entered the lobby of the hotel. The only familiar aspect of the evening, Barba himself, disappearing willed Carisi to move. He dashed across the street and through the front doors, flashing the doorman a bright grin in the process. 

Carisi stopped short when he nearly crashed into a woman carrying a tray of cocktails. He apologized profusely, but was distracted by the party before his eyes. The hotel lobby was nearly packed with elegantly-dressed New York politicians and trophy wives mingling over martinis.

Barba spotted Carisi first because Carisi stuck out like a sore thumb. His pale blue button-up was bright among black tuxedos and evening gowns. Barba pulled away from a small group of young lawyers to approach him. Carisi couldn’t help but smile and the smirk on Barba’s face.

Barba crowded him close enough for Carisi to smell his cologne. He leaned close so Carisi could hear him over the hum of the party and said, “Do you recall a case in which we prosecuted a deputy commissioner for touching little boys? It appears we’ve intruded upon a gala put on by his wife. It’s no wonder I wasn’t invited.”

Carisi laughed, but felt compelled to address his casual appearance before Barba could. “Counselor, I didn’t mean to –” Carisi said and gestured to his torso. “I didn’t know it was black tie,” he said, feeling a blush creep up his neck for the second time that day despite the grin plastered on his face. 

Barba waved his hand to dismiss Carisi’s worry and laid it to rest on the younger man’s arm. He jerked his head towards the elevator and guided Carisi by the arm through the throngs of senators, judges, and socialites. Barba painstakingly threw out pleasantries along the way. 

They stepped into the elevator and Barba dropped his hand. Carisi ignored the loss in favor of asking, “Barba, you know the mayor was down there?” 

“He’s an ass,” Barba said. “You’ve never met him?”

Carisi rolled his eyes. He was suddenly unsure of why he was so nervous for the dinner. It was just Barba. 

“So, Carisi, what do you plan on doing with your degree,” Barba asked. Carisi thought for a moment, wanting to brandish a quip as smoothly as Barba. He settled with calling Barba out on his bluntness.

“Wow, don’t do small talk, do ya, Counselor?” Carisi asked, flinching internally at how not clever he sounded. The corner of Barba’s mouth twitched up and he shook his head. Carisi’s insides fluttered. That damn smirk. 

As they rode the quiet elevator to the fifty-first floor, Carisi told Barba that he planned to stay at SVU for a while and even managed to ignore when Barba sarcastically muttered, “Thank God.” 

The men entered the restaurant, and “reservation for Barba” entailed a tiny round table in front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the East River. The pair sat and quickly discovered that the table was barely large enough to avoid touching knees underneath. 

Carisi was relieved to find that the conversation with Barba was easy. He couldn’t shake the insecurity of being grossly underdressed, especially when their waiter looked him up and down as he took their drink orders: a scotch for Barba and, even though he would have been fine with a beer, a glass of wine for Carisi to avoid embarrassing his dinner date. Carisi looked at the menu and realized that there were no prices listed for any of the dishes. 

Carisi wondered why Barba would be doing this at all. It’s not like Barba needed to work to impress him. The man’s presence alone was enough to render Carisi starry-eyed, and everyone knew it. 

_He'd better be fucking impressed_ , Barba thought bitterly as he glanced over the menu, knowing full well that the steak Carisi was considering would be just over 80 dollars. But annoyance was his baseline emotion, so in all actuality Barba didn’t mind the dent he was about to put in his bank account. 

They ordered their food and, as Carisi chatted away about his family, Barba thought. When he joined SVU, Carisi annoyed the ever-living shit out of him with his ‘80’s porn star mustache and constant bragging about Fordham Law. He had been over-eager and had a tendency to explain things that everyone else in the room already knew. 

After working on a quite a few cases together and a prompt removal of one horrific moustache, Barba realized that Carisi wasn’t so bad. He genuinely wanted to help with his limited law school knowledge and oddly serious attitude. 

Barba, too, was surprised that the conversation between them was pleasant. He could tell that the detective was nervous, but that was his own fault for intentionally making Carisi afraid of him. He’d constantly shot down Carisi’s ideas and berated him for speaking up, even when he knew the detective was just trying to prove that he belonged with the rest of the squad. 

The longer they spoke, the more Carisi loosened up, and just after their food arrived, Barba couldn’t help but notice how much the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, even though he wasn’t that old. What, 35? 30? So young. Raphael sighed. As he did, he sank down a little lower in his chair and his knee pressed lightly against Carisi’s. Carisi jerked his leg away and sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, Counselor, I didn’t mean to bore you,” said Carisi. He’d been saying something about his sister that Barba was only half listening to, but it hit Barba how genuinely sincere Carisi was being. He wasn’t annoyed or being sarcastic. He actually cared if Barba was enjoying himself. But still, he moved his leg away really quickly. 

Thoughtlessly, Barba said, “No, I was just thinking about how young you are.” 

Carisi’s face contorted, any hopes of their dinner being more than a friendly dinner between colleagues dashed. He was right earlier. It was a pity dinner. Barba thought he was a dumb kid.

_Which is stupid_ , Carisi thought, _I'm almost fucking forty_. 

Barba didn’t know what Carisi was thinking, but he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Carisi’s face looked pained. In an uncharacteristically kind way, Barba said, “What I should have said is that for one so young, you are incredible accomplished. Much more accomplished than I was at your age. You’re a good cop, and now a lawyer. You’ve got a good family, and,” Barba paused, looking up and down the detective, “you take care of yourself.” 

_What the fuck, Rafael?_ Barba thought, _where did that come from?_

Carisi was still reeling inside from the, “so young,” and though he obviously caught the, “you take care of yourself,” and the knee touching, he let it all go with a sigh because he was having a nice time. He didn’t want to ruin the evening – and potentially his entire relationship with Barba – by overanalyzing every little detail. 

When the bill came, Barba snatched it out of the waiter’s hand before Carisi even had a chance to consider it. Barba put his card in the waiter’s book and handed it back to him. Carisi began to protest, but Barba shot him a look that told him to leave it alone. Carisi had no idea what the prices were, so he didn’t know how much to try and give Barba when they got outside. 

On the elevator ride down, Carisi weakly attempted to get Barba to tell him how much the bill was so he could pay at least half. 

“Counselor, I invited you,” said Carisi, “you don’t invite people out then make them pay.” 

“Detective, please,” Barba said, a bit annoyed that the Carisi wouldn’t let it go. But he took solace in the idea that Carisi was just too nice. _Too nice for me_ , he thought wistfully.

When the pair arrived in the now-empty lobby, they stopped for a moment, both seemingly unsure of what to do next. After a moment of silence, at the same time, Carisi tried to thank Barba for the meal and Barba tried to thank Carisi for joining him. They shared a short laugh, and Barba asked if Carisi wanted to share a cab. The detective said that he didn’t think they lived anywhere near one another, and instead offered to walk Barba back to his apartment which, he found out, was less than a mile away. Barba glanced at his phone, huh, 11:49, and agreed. 

On the way to Barba’s apartment, Carisi said, “Why don’t you tell me about your family, Counselor? I talked your ear off at dinner about mine.”

“Why don’t you call me Rafael, Detective?” asked Barba. “Since now we’ve shared a dinner and all.” 

“I don’t know about that... Rafael? I don’t know about that, Counselor,” Carisi said. Barba couldn’t help but smile at the way his Staten Island accent wrapped around, “Rafael.” It sounded ridiculous. 

They arrived at Barba’s building. Rafael was prepared to say his goodbyes in the lobby, but Carisi punched the elevator button. 

“Quite forward of you, Detective,” Rafael teased. 

Carisi took a step backwards, putting his hands up defensively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said a little too quickly. 

“I’m joking, Carisi. Get a grip,” said Rafael, a bit disappointed at the detective’s adverse reaction. 

“Yeah, Counselor. Of course,” said Carisi, uneasily. Is the idea of us being – I don’t know – together that laughable? 

The elevator ride to Rafael’s apartment was a slow and awkward one. Carisi tried to break the silence, “So, I’ll see you Monday, Counselor?”

“What?” Rafael asked, looking up from his phone. “Oh, yes. Of course.” 

“I guess I owe you a dinner, huh?” asked Carisi, only half-joking. 

Barba surprised them both by saying, “I’d like that. I had a nice time.” 

They got off on the eighth floor and walked to the end of the hall. They hesitated outside of Rafael’s door. They’d made it this far and neither knew what it meant. 

Rafael leaned his shoulder against the wall and stared up at Carisi. Carisi’s closeness was, as cliché as Rafael knew it was, intoxicating. He was tall and warm and his cologne was strong and have his eyes always been that blue? 

Rafael put a hand on Carisi’s arm in a casual enough way that he could have dropped it at the slightest hint of discomfort. To his surprise, Carisi shuffled closer, turning Rafael so that his back was flush against the wall. Rafael tightened his grip, parted his lips, and leaned in. He could feel Carisi’s hot breath on his face; he could smell the after-dinner mint on his tongue. 

Carisi put a hand on the wall next to Rafael’s hip, and reveled at how every shred of nervousness from the evening fell away at the older man’s touch. He wanted to taste the scotch on the tip of the ADA’s tongue

“Who is that?” came a sudden croaking voice. Carisi practically flung himself backwards away from Rafael. 

Rafael laughed at Carisi and the elderly woman hunched over her walker who seemed to appear out of nowhere. She had a bag of groceries hanging off each side of the walker and mismatched house-shoes on her feet. 

“Hello, Mrs. Gruberman. Lovely evening, isn’t it?” asked Rafael coolly, leaning against the wall. He crossed one ankle over the other in an effort to appear as though his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest. 

The two men watched as Mrs. Gruberman’s shaking hands struggled to insert her key into its lock. After a short, silent moment, Carisi took a long stride to Rafael’s neighbor and helped her unlock her door. She mumbled a farewell to Rafael and left the men alone in the hallway once again. 

“It’s late, Detective,” said Rafael. He hesitated before adding, “I’ll text you.” With a sly smile, he turned and unlocked his door. He looked back at Carisi, who was still staring at the old woman’s door. “Is Detective Dominick Carisi Junior speechless? That’s a first. Someone call the press,” said Rafael. “I’ll see you,” he said, “and don’t worry about Mrs. Gruberman. She’s been legally blind for five years.”

...

The next morning when Carisi woke up, memories of the night before flooded his thoughts. It was a Saturday, and he wasn’t on call. He really needed to tidy his modest apartment and buy groceries, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Barba. About Rafael, he reminded himself. He briefly wondered if Barba really wanted to be called that, or if he was just being sociable. 

That only lasted a moment before Carisi’s thoughts wandered to what happened outside of Rafael’s apartment. If that old woman hadn’t shown up, what might have happened? They were going to kiss, right? 

_We were so close. God, why did I let that happen?_ Carisi thought. He began to panic about having almost kissed Barba. The Rafael Barba, Manhattan’s most badass, no-nonsense lawyer, almost kissed him. Besides, it was a mistake. 

_I'm not gay_ , thought Carisi. _I'm not_.

Carisi respected Barba. He was obviously a very talented lawyer and probably the smartest person Carisi had ever met. No one could outwit him, that’s for sure. And Carisi really enjoyed his time observing Barba; he wasn’t an overwhelmingly good instructor and he wasn’t very nice, but he was proficient in his work, he cared about victims, and he was funny.

Thoughts were racing through Carisi’s head at a million miles an hour, and he’d already gone through about eight different emotions in the 15 minutes he’d been awake. But, God, Barba’s breath was on his lips less than 12 hours ago. He agonized for all of two minutes about whether he should text Barba or let Barba text him first when he got a call.

“Carisi,” he answered. 

“It’s Benson,” she said. 

“Hey, Lieu. What’s up?” asked Carisi, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. 

“You’re going undercover. Can you be at the station in an hour for a briefing?” asked Liv. Carisi frowned. If Olivia was at the station that meant that she wasn’t at home with Noah. Carisi suddenly felt guilty that he had the day off for no reason.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there. See ya,” said Carisi brightly in spite of his concern and hung up. He stared at his phone for a moment before dialing Barba. 

He picked up on the second ring, “Barba.” 

“Hey, Counselor,” said Carisi. He couldn’t contain the grin that crept onto his face. 

“Morning, Detective,” drawled Barba. If he didn’t know any better, Carisi would say that Barba was smiling, too. 

“Hey, so... You don’t need to say anything about last night, but I wanna let you know I’m going undercover,” said Carisi. There was silence for a moment. 

“How long?” Barba asked. 

“Dunno. I just got a call from the Lieu,” said Carisi. “I just wanted to tell you. Maybe we can still see each other at the precinct or... I don’t know if you even want – er, maybe we –” Carisi stammered. 

“Carisi, that’s fine,” said Barba softly. 

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. Then I’m going –”

“I had a nice time last night, Detective. We’ll talk,” said Barba. 

“Yeah, definitely. I – I’ll see you,” Carisi said and hung up.

An hour later, Carisi was sitting at the precinct listening to Lieutenant Benson brief him on his meeting the following Monday with his new “boss,” one of Delia Wilson’s ex-working girls. 

The squad had been following Anya Smirnov for months. She’d managed to collect some of Delia’s old contacts and slowly but surely was rebuilding the escort service. She had even bought another ranch. As good as Delia was before being sentenced to life in prison, this woman was better. She had learned from Delia’s mistakes, and, unlike Delia, had no problem getting her hands dirty. 

Anya was Delia-and-a-half. And though SVU was not certain, they had reason to suspect that Delia herself was still part of the operation from her prison cell. It wasn’t unheard of for pimps to have spy networks to allow them to keep their operation going from the inside. Either way, SVU found an opening, but it meant that Carisi had to go undercover soon. 

On Monday, he would have a meeting with Anya to discuss his position. He’d be handling the girls shipped over from Russia: making sure they didn’t run away when the trucks were parked or overdose or get themselves shot by a john. It would be difficult but not impossible to slip into the group fairly anonymously. 

But, first, he’d have to get through the initial meeting. Anya insisted on meeting with everyone on the payroll personally to avoid a Cassidy/Ganzel-eque incident. Until then, though, there was nothing else to do – Carisi had long since had his generic UC persona memorized, so he could relax the rest of the weekend. 

Or he could call Barba. 

Carisi left the precinct with a wave to the Lieutenant and, the moment he stepped into a taxi, he speed-dialed Barba. Barba, again, answered on the second ring, and Carisi said, “I don’t have to go undercover until Monday. Do you want to do something?”

“Eager, aren’t we detective? One dinner does not a friendship make,” Barba said, jokingly. 

Even though Carisi knew he was kidding, it still worried him a little that he was annoying Barba. He worried that he was overreaching or misinterpreting the signals Barba sent the evening before. “Two dinners, then, Counselor?” asked Carisi boldly. 

“Hm. Maybe,” said Barba. 

“Great!” shouted Carisi, a bit too loud for the enclosed taxi. He glanced at his watch – it was already 6:28, so he said, “Are you ready for dinner now? Meet me at Little Italia. It’s a bistro on the corner of fifteenth and third.” 

“Meet you there,” click. Barba hung up. 

Carisi gave the driver the new address, and tried not to get too excited that he was going to see Barba outside of work for the second day in a row. 

Minutes later, the pair entered the dimly-lit Italian restaurant. They were immediately assaulted by the smell of tomato sauce the moment they walked in. The walls were covered from the floor to the ceiling in posters and shelves with Italy-themed knick-knacks. The red booths were old and torn, but Carisi felt the need to assure Barba that the food was good. 

A hostess sat in them in a corner booth, away from only a handful of other patrons. As Barba looked around, sitting in a slim black suit, a white shirt, and no tie, Carisi agonized over the fact that it was no match for the rooftop hotel restaurant that Barba treated him to the night before. He suddenly frowned and said, “Hey, uh, Barba. If you want to go somewhere else, we can. I didn’t even ask –”

“Carisi,” Barba interrupted. “Relax. It’s quaint, and though I don’t trust your judgment in most cases, I think you’ve got me when it comes to Italian food.” Barba swore that when Carisi laughed, he could hear the Staten Island accent in it. 

Carisi got Barba up to speed on the undercover escort case, and Barba grew uneasy with every word that came from Carisi’s mouth. He suddenly blurted out, “Be careful.”

Carisi was just as surprised to hear it as Barba was to say it. “I, uh. Yeah, I – I will, I will,” Carisi stammered. 

Barba quickly recovered, “Delia Wilson was a madam with a rock-solid support system and we were almost unable to take her down, and if this Anya is even worse than she was, you need to be careful.” He sighed a deep breath and relaxed his stiffened shoulders. “How long?” 

“Could be days, weeks, months. It depends on how long it takes for me to figure out how to access the main records,” Carisi said. 

Barba nodded but offered no verbal response.

“Hey, Counselor?” Carisi asked. 

“Hm?” 

“You just spoke at your lawyer speed, when you’re six cups of coffee into your day. Last night and earlier tonight, you spoke a lot slower. Almost like a person who survives on food and sleep instead of coffee and pessimism,” Carisi teased. 

“Carisi, I –” Barba’s generic ringtone began blasting from his pants pocket. It took exactly the time of two rings for Barba to pull it out and answer. “Hola, Mami. Estoy bien. Yes, Mami. I’m at a restaurant with, um... people from work. Si, del trabajo. Okay, Mami. Te amo, Mami. I’ll call you – si, I’ll call you en la mañana. Okay, te amo. Buenas noches,” Carisi picked out some Spanish phrases he recognized from the one-sided conversation. 

“Barba, I never would’ve pegged you as the call-your-mom-once-a-day type,” Carisi said, holding back a grin. 

“Funny, I would peg you exactly as that type,” Barba accused without malice. “But no. Ever since mi abuelita passed last year, my mother has been more or less alone. The least I can do is call her,” Barba said seriously. 

“So, there is a heart in there,” Carisi said, reaching his long arms across the table and touching the tips of his fingers to Barba’s chest. Barba brought his hand up on the table and touched his fingers to the top of Carisi’s arm. They stayed there for a moment until Carisi abruptly pulled away when he saw the waitress coming to take their orders. 

Barba didn’t like the loss of contact, so without thinking he stretched his leg out underneath the table and pressed their calves together. He needed to get that under control – when he was with Carisi, there was a lot of acting without thinking. That time, unlike the night before, Carisi didn’t move his leg. 

_That was probably an accident_ , Carisi thought. But a few moments passed and Barba didn’t move his leg. 

It had been too long for Carisi to move his without it being obvious, so he left it. The word faggot kept bouncing around his brain in his dad’s voice, but he chose to ignore it in favor of listening to Barba tell a story about his abuela. 

Their food arrived and they sat in amicable silence for a few minutes before Barba looked squarely at Carisi. “Do you want to come back to my apartment for a drink?” Barba asked before he could change his mind

“Rafael, who’s overeager now?” Carisi asked, feeling strange about using Barba’s first name again. 

Barba’s smile reappeared, and he looked down at his food. 

“I guess if I can call you Rafael, you have to call me Sonny,” Carisi said. 

“Why?” Rafael asked, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards, “nobody else does.”

Sonny’s smile took up the entire lower half of his face. “You remembered,” he said in reference to the first time he and Barba met two years ago. “Can you believe it’s been two years?” Sonny asked. 

“No. It feels like no time at all but forever. This is out of character, so please forgive me, but I think of us as friends,” Rafael said. “We’ve spent a considerable amount of time together,” he added, as if it that explained his shift in feelings. 

“Forgive me if this is forward, but I agree,” Sonny said, pushing his empty plate to the center of the table. 

Rafael looked down at his own plate, half of the same dish Sonny ordered still on his plate. “Where do you put it?” Rafael asked, pushing his own plate away. 

“I’m always movin’, Counselor,” Sonny said, patting his stomach, “and I’m tall.” 

Rafael shook his head and said, “Let’s go.” Carisi paid at the counter in the front of the restaurant and held the door open for Barba as they left. When they moved outside to hail a taxi, the two walked considerably closer than the night before, bumping shoulders. 

They were silent most of the taxi ride, except when Rafael tapped away on his phone and muttered, “I love texting. The fewer the people I have to speak with, the better.” 

They arrived at Rafael’s apartment and took the same path as the evening before. Last night’s walk was in blissful confusion, while tonight’s was buzzing with anticipation. It took everything in Rafael not to reach over and take Sonny’s hand. He had never been the romantic type – not since his heart was shredded to pieces in the eleventh grade. But he just wanted to feel Carisi’s hands. He’d watched those hands acting during dinner earlier. Like a true Italian, Sonny gesticulated quite heavily when he spoke, and Rafael found it to be... endearing? 

The pair reached Barba’s apartment and he lead the way in. When he flipped on the lights, Sonny found that the apartment was mostly what he would have imagined if he had tried to picture Barba’s apartment: clean, just like his office, but overrun with books; a little clutter here and there – enough to make it feel homey but not messy; a leather couch in the middle of the living room that looked rather uncomfortable – classy, but uncomfortable. The apartment was, however, surprisingly smaller than Sonny would have imagined. He was certain the ADA could afford better.

Rafael led them to a very richly wooded kitchen and took two glasses out of a cabinet. He poured scotch from a decanter on the counter and took a long swig, handing the second glass to Sonny. 

“Nice place, Counselor,” Sonny said, truly meaning it. 

“Thank you. Refill?” asked Rafael, already pouring himself another two fingers. 

“Um. No, thanks,” Sonny said, slowly sipping at the first glass of scotch in his hand. 

Rafael grinned. “You don’t like scotch, do you?” he asked. 

Sonny matched his smile and shook his head. Rafael took the glass of scotch out of Sonny’s hand and drained it from the spot Sonny’s lips had just been. He moved to the fridge and grabbed a beer for Sonny. Sonny twisted open the bottle and took a long drink. When he put the bottle down, he began, “I don’t really – oh.” 

He was cut off by Rafael’s warm lips against his. Rafael reached around Sonny to put his empty glass on the counter, pushing Sonny against the cabinets. Rafael teased against Sonny’s mouth, “Consent can be revoked at any time,” earning a warm laugh from the detective. 

The vibrations felt euphoric against Rafael’s lips, and entirely by accident, he moaned. He felt Carisi smile against his mouth and said, without pulling away, “Sorry, it’s been a while.” 

Sonny took that as the go-ahead to put his hands on Rafael’s hips while Rafael explored the planes of Sonny’s back with his palms. Rafael dipped his tongue into Sonny’s mouth, gauging his reaction. Sonny, surprising them both, grazed his teeth over Rafael’s tongue and they both made little sounds of pleasure. 

Sonny moved his hands up, over Rafael’s back, to his shoulders. He gently eased Rafael’s blazer off and let it fall to the floor. Rafael sighed into Sonny’s mouth and broke the kiss. He bent down to pick up the blazer and smiled over his shoulder at Sonny as he walked to his bedroom. 

Sonny wasn’t embarrassed, but he _really_ wished he hadn’t dropped that blazer. His lips felt freezing without the warmth of Rafael’s mouth. He reached up and ran his two fingers over his bottom lip as he followed Rafael into the bedroom. When he entered, Rafael was taking off his pants and hanging them in his closet. As Sonny enjoyed the view, another vision of his dad popped into his head, _fucking queer_. Sonny shook his head, and moved towards Rafael. 

“That’s really presumptuous, Counselor,” Sonny said, sliding his arms around Rafael’s waist from behind. He ran his hands underneath Rafael’s shirt and felt the soft skin and wiry hair on his stomach and chest. 

For the first time, Rafael felt self-conscious. He knew that his body wasn’t as toned as it had once been, and a sore spot was his stomach. He turned in to face Sonny without breaking free of his arms. As he turned, his hip grazed over Sonny’s half-hard erection. Pressed together, Rafael could feel it against his stomach. He tilted his face up to look Sonny in the eye.

Rafael put his hands on Sonny’s hips and guided him backwards to the bed, refusing to break contact. Sonny felt the back of his calves touch the bed and he gently lowered himself onto a comforter he guessed cost more than his rent judging by its softness under his damp palms. 

Rafael took pains to get down on stiff knees as gracefully as possible. The last thing he needed was to fall at Sonny’s feet like he was begging for forgiveness for the sins he was about to commit. 

Now given explicit permission, it was as if Sonny gave in to the magnetization that pulled him towards Rafael. Sonny curled his shoulders inward on reflex, his legs made quick work of enveloping Rafael's body, and his fingers flitted through perfectly coiffed hair. Rafael situated himself in the cocoon Sonny made around him. His sudden comfort in a place as foreign as the floor (thanks to Sonny’s presence alone) warmed his heart. 

Rafael’s contentment must have shown in his features because Sonny took Rafael’s face in his large hands and kissed him deeply. Rafael caught Sonny’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, running his hands gently, teasingly, up Sonny’s thighs. 

Then they were both on autopilot, doing what felt right in the moment: kissing and allowing hands to roam over one another’s backs, shoulders, chests, legs. 

At last, Rafael, his words breathy, asked of Sonny, “Aren’t you supposed to be a good Catholic boy?” 

Sonny’s relaxed face pinched into an expression that Rafael knew he never wanted to cause again. Sonny hesitated, “You don’t have to –” Rafael shut him up with a kiss and felt his face go slack with pleasure once more. 

“Are you sure?” Sonny mumbled, undoing his belt. Rafael gave his answer by making quick work of the buttons on Sonny’s shirt. He ran his hands over Sonny’s chest and his flat stomach. For such a thin man, Rafael couldn’t believe how muscular his body was. His hip bones protruded above his waistband, and Rafael leaned down to plant firm kisses over them. 

Rafael pulled away, unbuttoned Sonny’s pants, and helped him slide them down long legs. He pulled them off Sonny’s feet and tossed them to the side. Sonny’s erection was straining against his underwear, ready, but Rafael wanted to tease him a bit longer. He kissed the inside of his lover’s thighs and drew circles with the tip of his tongue. Sweetest of all, he reveled in the mingling sounds of their labored breathing. 

Finally, Rafael hooked his fingers in Sonny’s underwear and the pair removed them using the same methodology as Sonny’s pants. Sonny slid his hands from Rafael’s shoulders to his neck, the back of his head, and back again, trying to find a suitable spot. 

With their lips a few inches apart and eyes deadlocked, Rafael wrapped his fingers around Sonny’s long cock. He kissed Sonny deeply before pulling away. 

“You’re – wow,” Rafael said matter-of-factly, sending a shudder up Sonny’s spine. 

Rafael didn’t hesitate a moment longer before putting his mouth on Sonny’s dick. He tried but quickly realized that he couldn’t take it all. Sonny’s fingers were tight in his hair, but they relented when Rafael withdrew his mouth. He kissed the head and allowed saliva to liberally drip from his lips. He glanced up to see if Sonny was watching – he was. 

Rafael, still looking Sonny in the eyes, spit into his palm. He ran his hand up and down Sonny’s length and eased down a bit lower on his knees. Rafael cupped Sonny’s balls in his free hand and gave them a soft squeeze. He tilted his head to the side and ran his wet tongue up from the base of Sonny’s cock. When he reached the tip, he let Sonny fill his hot mouth again. 

Sonny moaned low and gravelly, eliciting moans from Rafael, too. Sonny had heard Rafael say hundreds of thousands, probably millions of words, but nothing he’d ever heard come out of Rafael’s mouth compared to the sounds Rafael made right then, as he fucked Sonny with his mouth. 

Suddenly, with Sonny deep in his throat, Rafael swallowed. 

Sonny’s hips bucked at the sensation, forcing his cock deep into Rafael's throat.

Rafael jolted back and hacked out a cough as Sonny came hot, white ejaculate on the older man’s face. “God, Counselor,” he moaned.

It took all of a moment for Sonny to recover before he leaned forward and put his hands on Rafael’s shoulders. His forehead creased with worry. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, “Raf, you okay?” 

Rafael nodded unconvincingly as he violently coughed into his fist. Any embarrassment he may have felt for having ruined the moment was quelled by his difficulty breathing.

Sonny rubbed his back and waited for the coughing to subside. Rafael cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said, avoiding Sonny’s gaze. His voice sounded weak and raw. 

“Woah, no. Don’t be ridiculous – I’m sorry,” Sonny said. “I just choked you.” 

After a moment of regaining his composure, Rafael sat up straighter and looked at Sonny. “Counselor? Then Raf?” he asked incredulously, raising one eyebrow. “And shouldn’t you be feeling pleased with yourself? Having a dick big enough to choke someone – isn’t that, like, every frat boy’s dream?” 

Sonny looked sheepishly down at the floor behind Barba’s shoulder. He was embarrassed first by the choking, then by the lewdness of Rafael saying the word dick, and finally by the realization that Barba thought his dick was big. 

“Sorry,” Sonny said finally, running his fingers through his hair. “It looks like some higher power doesn’t want... this,” Sonny said, gesturing between the two of them. _Nice_ , he thought, _way to sober the mood. Barba wasn’t even mad_. 

Rafael, exerting visible effort, stood up. Knowing that his age was showing, his embarrassment grew to match Sonny’s. He cupped Sonny’s cheek and kissed his forehead. “Stay here,” he said, as if Sonny was going to do anything but that. He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. He glanced in the mirror and smiled at his hair, messy from Sonny’s fingers, and his cheeks pink from his coughing fit. He wiped Sonny’s cum from his cheeks and chin. 

Rafael returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed next to Sonny. He put one hand on Sonny’s back and used the other clean Sonny’s lap – his thighs and his wet, half-hard dick. He eased Sonny’s shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. He kissed Sonny’s shoulder and Sonny pressed his lips against Rafael’s forehead. They went still for a moment before Sonny whispered, “Thank you. I’m so sorry for – you know.” He was too horrified to even say the words. 

Rafael smiled and shook his head. Knowing Sonny thought it was his fault was endearing, and it demolished every last twinge of embarrassment that Rafael harbored over the incident. 

Sonny put his hand on Rafael’s bare thigh and slid it towards his underwear. Sonny hooked his fingers in the waistband, and Rafael took hold of them. He said, “It’s alright,” and put his other arm around Sonny’s waist, pushing the offending hand off of him. 

Sonny looked at Rafael and his eyebrows creased with concern. “Barba, I don’t –”

“It’s fine. I just – not now,” Barba said, in a voice quieter than Sonny had ever heard from him. Sonny suddenly felt completely and utterly inadequate. He took and he couldn’t give. He took Rafael’s time when he shadowed him, asking him stupid questions and spouting off his annoying legal opinions. He took Rafael’s money when they went to dinner together the night before. And he just took _Rafael_. He’d taken advantage of Rafael and it horrified him. He’d physically _hurt him_. 

Sonny stood up and quickly collected his clothes. Rafael's body went rigid. He dropped his hands in his lap, as if they would cover his suddenly out-of-place erection. He almost said something along the lines of, _Sonny, where are you going? Come back here and put your arms around me, you idiot_ , but thought better. Instead, he sat on his bed and watched helplessly as Sonny pulled his clothes on. 

Rafael directed his thoughts inward as the reality of the situation abruptly came to light, _You complete fool – he just wanted a quick lay, to repay the favor because that’s the kind of guy he is, and to get out. You knew going into this he was so much younger – more attractive – and now you’re surprised? You’re hurt?_

Sonny smoothed his hair with both hands, then hooked his fingers in his belt loops. He stared down at Rafael, who was having a staring contest with the wall. He was disheveled and _beautiful_ , Sonny thought, _but he doesn’t want me_. A shiver of disgust went down his spine for doing what he did to Rafael.

“See you, Counselor,” Sonny said, not wanting to leave without at least some semblance of a parting pleasantry. He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to get down on his knees and apologize to Rafael. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to know why Rafael didn’t want him. _Oh yeah, because you’re a too-young-for-him idiot who choked him with your dick_. 

_Hold up. Was this all some sort of power trip for Barba? Has this been some sort of conquest? Did he do this_ often _?_ Sonny shut his thoughts off before they could escalate any further. He turned around and walked out of the bedroom. 

Rafael’s heart jumped into his throat watching Sonny leave. He was suddenly terrified that if he didn’t act now, Monday morning would arrive and everything would go back to normal. He thought that would be what Sonny wanted, but it certainly wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Where are you going?” Rafael asked, his voice barely audible. But, _thank God_ , he thought, Sonny heard. 

Sonny froze in the living room. He slowly turned around to face the bedroom and saw Rafael looking out at him. 

“Sonny,” said Rafael, his lips barely moving and his eyes locked on the detective. 

“I – I’m just going home. You don’t want me here,” Sonny said, wanting Rafael to correct him. His speaking voice was deafening compared to the last few minutes of near-silence. 

“No,” snapped Rafael. “I do. I do want you here,” he said in a gentler voice. 

“But you –” Sonny didn’t know how to say _you slapped my hand away when I tried to touch your dick, like, a minute after I choked you because I don’t know what I’m doing _, while still maintaining the little self-respect he had left.__

____

“It’s not you, Sonny,” Barba said and quickly stood. He crossed through the doorway quickly and crowded close to Sonny without touching him. He had to look up to make eye contact with the taller man. 

____

“What?” asked Sonny, looking genuinely hurt. That baffled Barba even more because it was Sonny who made the decision to leave. 

____

“I read people for a living, Detective. I have to know what they’re thinking, when they’re telling the truth or lying. I have to be one step ahead of everyone else all the time,” Rafael said. He sighed, “It’s exhausting, and – and I’m not good at it outside of the courtroom. Tell me what you’re thinking because, _Dios mio _, if you don’t tell me, I won’t know.” He didn't seem angry, but he certainly sounded tired.__

______ _ _

Sonny hesitated. Rafael put his hand on Sonny’s arm, head tilted and waiting. “Raf, I – I took advantage of you – and I hurt you,” Sonny choked out. 

______ _ _

Rafael huffed out a laugh, “Are you joking?” he asked with a smile. Why could this man make him behave so tenderly? If it were anyone else, Barba wouldn’t have been down on his knees in the first place. 

______ _ _

Sonny creased his eyebrows, “No. Barba, no, I mean it. First with the shadowing, and – and dinner, then just now, you did that and –”

______ _ _

“Sonny, no, that’s not what this is,” Rafael said. “What do you think this is?” Rafael asked. He held his breath, nervous for Sonny’s answer. 

______ _ _

“I don’t know, Counselor. I – I think I know what I want it to be,” Sonny said, averting his eyes. 

______ _ _

“Tell me,” Rafael said, squeezing Sonny’s arm. Suddenly his patience, nonexistent in most cases, was as vast as the ocean. 

______ _ _

Sonny had trouble forming the words. After two dinners and what he thought was a pity blowjob gone wrong, the last thing he needed to do was scare the shit out of Rafael by telling him just how much he liked the time they spent together. 

______ _ _

Rafael could see the gears turning in Sonny’s head. “Sonny,” said Rafael, “we’re both adults. We aren’t in high school. We can talk to one another about our feelings. We don’t need to play head games.” 

______ _ _

“I like you, Counselor,” said Sonny. 

______ _ _

“Well, I would hope so,” Rafael said, smiling again. He felt himself relax a bit, but he hadn’t gotten the confirmation he needed. 

______ _ _

“I like spending time with you,” Sonny said, and put his hands on Rafael’s hips. 

______ _ _

“But?” asked Rafael, sensing that a qualifier was coming. 

______ _ _

“But nothing. There’s no but. I like spending time with you outside of work, and I want to keep doing it,” Sonny said. Despite his hands on Rafael’s hips, he still couldn’t look the shorter man in the eyes. He had no idea what Rafael was getting at. He’d stopped him from leaving, at least. That was something. 

______ _ _

Rafael broke into laughter. “Sonny, me too,” he said. He pulled Sonny into his arms and mumbled against his chest, “Me too, Sonny, me too.” Every ounce of stress melted off him as he leaned into Sonny’s hard body. 

______ _ _

Rafael knew he was jumping the gun, but he’d considered their hypothetical relationship at length. He thought that Sonny’s hero worship was going to be an issue, which is why he was so surprised when Sonny up and left just minutes before. It threw everything he thought he knew about Sonny into a whirlwind of uncertainty. But after hearing Sonny’s reason for leaving, Rafael was once again affirmed in who Sonny was as a person. 

______ _ _

Rafael really liked having Sonny around. He was sweet, funny, smart, witty, and more than anything else, genuine. Sonny’s asking him to dinner was wildly convenient for him because it meant he hadn’t had to stick his neck out and risk rejection while still being able to flip the invitation around to make it all seem like his idea.

______ _ _

Rafael had deliberated his infatuation with Sonny extensively. He hadn’t been certain at the previous night’s dinner that his feelings for Sonny weren’t just a passing fancy – here today, gone tomorrow. But standing together mussed and half-dressed in his living room, Rafael sincerely doubted that that was the case. 

______ _ _

Sonny wrapped his arms around Rafael. He was thankful and so, so relieved that he was wrong about the situation. Rafael’s hair smelled like product, and Sonny briefly wondered what Rafael smelled like without everything else: the mousse, the shampoo, the cologne. Just Rafael. 

______ _ _

Rafael yawned against Sonny’s chest. “I should still probably go. It’s late,” Sonny said.

______ _ _

“Stay,” Rafael said, and recoiled at how desperate he sounded. 

______ _ _

Sonny smiled widely. 

______ _ _

“I’ll take that as a yes, Detective,” Rafael said, smirking at Sonny’s positive response. He took Sonny’s hand and led him back to the bedroom. Sonny sat on the edge of the bed while Rafael rifled through his dresser. He pulled out two t-shirts and pairs of sweatpants and threw one of each at Sonny. 

______ _ _

“You want a shower?” asked Rafael. 

______ _ _

“What, together?” asked Sonny, his voice an octave higher than usual. 

______ _ _

“I want to get clean, not dirtier,” Rafael taunted. “I’ll go first. I’m quick,” he said and pulled the bathroom door shut behind him. 

______ _ _

Sonny changed quickly, not caring to shower. He crawled to the center of the massive bed and flopped on to his back. The night’s events played through his head. For the first time, he was able to consider the outright mortification he felt for choking Rafael, and even worse for having him down on his knees in the first place. 

______ _ _

Sonny suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He was in a man’s apartment on a Saturday night, lying in his bed after having oral sex. His stomach turned. He knew he shouldn’t have stayed; he should have gone home. But the thing was that when he was looking at Rafael, the last thing he wanted to do was leave. He didn’t feel the nausea that he was feeling now when he was with the older man. 

______ _ _

Sonny’s thoughts turned to his dad again. He thought of his father calling Ellen DeGeneres a “fucking disgusting dyke,” when she came out. He’d been just 17 and vaguely curious about his own sexuality beyond fooling around with his girlfriend on his couch. 

______ _ _

He thought about sitting in Sunday mass as a kid and learning that homosexuals were all going to go straight to hell – a fact corroborated by his dad over lunch later in the day. But then his thoughts drifted back to Rafael. 

______ _ _

Sonny’s body was confused. His sour stomach told him to leap up and get as far away from Barba’s apartment as he could but the fluttering in his chest never wanted him to leave Rafael’s arms. His body was filled with tension that released the moment he heard the shower turn off.

______ _ _

Rafael emerged from the bathroom toweling off his damp hair with one hand and brushing his teeth with the other. Sonny turned on to his side to watch. 

______ _ _

“You really are passionate about time management,” Sonny said. 

______ _ _

Rafael looked at him and smiled. Through a toothbrush and toothpaste gather at the corners of his mouth, he asked, “No shower?” 

______ _ _

“Nah,” Sonny said. Before he thought better of it, he revealed, “If I’m alone much longer I’ll think up an excuse to leave and I don’t want to.” 

______ _ _

Rafael’s forehead creased. He walked back into the bathroom and ditched the towel and toothbrush. Sonny heard him rinse his mouth out with water before reappearing. 

______ _ _

Rafael carefully pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Sonny readjusted himself rather awkwardly so that he was under the blankets, too. The pair turned to face one another. 

______ _ _

“What did you mean, you’ll ‘think up an excuse to leave?’” asked Rafael, his eyes probing Sonny’s. 

______ _ _

Sonny hesitated, trying to put together the least offensive sting of words he could to describe his feelings. He settled on, “I grew up really Catholic.” 

______ _ _

Rafael smiled. “Me too,” he said. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Sonny. “What is it? Is it the sex? Or that I’m a man?” he asked sympathetically. 

______ _ _

Sonny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The second,” he said. “That was my first time with –”

______ _ _

“Not a woman,” Rafael interrupted. 

______ _ _

“Counselor, do you know that, like, ninety percent of our conversations are me talking and you cutting me off?” Sonny asked, lightly redirecting the conversation. 

______ _ _

“Well, somebody has to do it,” Rafael teased. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

______ _ _

“No worries,” Sonny responded. 

______ _ _

They settled into an uneasy silence, still studying one another. 

______ _ _

A few moments passed while Sonny formulated a question, “Counselor, are you – are you gay?” 

______ _ _

Rafael snorted out a laugh. “What a question,” he said. He paused and contemplated a real answer. “I don’t think so,” he admitted. “I guess it depends on the person, not the body.”

______ _ _

Sonny nodded. “What do you think makes a difference between a man or a woman? You know, like, who what makes you want to be with one and not the other?” he asked. 

______ _ _

“If I was God or a geneticist, I’d tell you, Sonny,” said Rafael, inching closer to the younger man. “Just the way we’re born,” he guessed. 

______ _ _

Sonny nodded again and the tension in his shoulders dissipated. He relaxed against Rafael’s body and Rafael’s arms snaked around his torso. His face landed somewhere in the crook of Sonny’s neck. 

______ _ _

“You smell good,” Sonny whispered, burying his face in Rafael’s damp hair. 

______ _ _

Rafael hummed in response. He tightened his arms around Sonny and the last bit of distance between them was gone. “Are you okay with this?” Rafael asked, his voice muffled by Sonny’s chest. 

______ _ _

Sonny sighed. “Yes and no,” he said, not knowing if Rafael meant holding one another or the night in general. “I keep thinking about my old man. Can’t imagine what he’d say if he knew, or my sisters. Or – God – my ma would have a heart attack. Like a real, honest-to-goodness heart attack.”

______ _ _

“If my dad knew, he’d drive his fist through my face,” Rafael said monotonously. 

______ _ _

“What about your mom?” Sonny asked quietly. 

______ _ _

“She – she’s traditional, but she loves me more than she fears God,” said Rafael. 

______ _ _

“That’s nice, Rafael” Sonny said. He kissed Rafael’s forehead and thought about how, after less than 24 measly hours, the name rolled smoothly off his tongue. 

______ _ _

It only took a few minutes for Rafael’s breathing to become deep and slow with sleep. Sonny was tired, too, but he didn’t want to miss a moment.

______ _ _


	2. Let Me Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains graphic violence and rape
> 
> If you do not wish to read it, stop at '“Sit,” she said, and gestured to the nearest couch.'
> 
> Check the end notes for MINIMAL summary of everything after that point. 
> 
> Thank you!

Sonny woke long before Rafael. The first sensation he felt was not Rafael’s warm body pressed against him, but the feeling of waking up in the wrong place. He may as well have been on vacation in the Bahamas for as familiar as his surroundings seemed. He focused his eyes on the ceiling as his other senses joined him in consciousness. 

The pair were in more or less the same position they fell asleep in the night before, arms wrapped tightly around one another and legs tangled under soft sheets. 

Sonny needed to go to the bathroom but every muscle in his body resisted pulling away from Rafael. Unable to help himself, he softly brushed his lips over Rafael’s forehead before extricating himself from the warm bed. 

Sonny went to the bathroom, then planted his hands on the cold sink and looked into the eyes of his reflection. He recognized himself looking back, but he felt completely disconnected from the person he knew himself to be. The Sonny he knew wouldn't wake up in a man's apartment. He rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and went with it considerations of his recent actions. He smoothed his hair back so that he would look at least a little presentable when Rafael woke up. 

Sonny briefly considered starting breakfast or coffee, but promptly discarded the idea. He didn’t want Rafael to be angry with him for rifling through his cabinets and fridge, so instead he tiptoed back into the bedroom and slipped into bed. He sank softly into the mattress so as not to wake his sleeping counterpart, but the bed still creaked as he settled himself. 

Sonny wrapped a loose arm around Rafael from behind and sighed contentedly. He wondered fleetingly if Rafael was a morning person. Based on what he’d seen at work, he guessed not. _But maybe_ , he thought, _since we’re outside of work, it’ll be different_. 

As Rafael stirred, an image flashed into Sonny’s mind. In it, Rafael woke with a scowl on his face and a condescending, “Oh. You’re still here?” on his tongue. But when Rafael relaxed his body against Sonny’s and let out a contented sigh, all thoughts of being kicked out were expelled from his head. 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Sonny whispered in Rafael’s ear. 

Rafael scoffed without opening his eyes. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

Sonny turned on his back to reach his phone on the nightstand. He read, “6:58.” 

“Of course that’s what time you would wake up naturally on a weekend,” Rafael complained. “I need at least two more hours of sleep or three cups of coffee. Your choice,” he said, burying his face in his pillow. 

“I’m on it,” Sonny said, jumping up out of bed. Armed with the permission he needed, he made his way into Rafael’s kitchen. On Barba’s counter sat a coffee maker that appeared as if it was purchased new in 1980. Yellowed with age and a dial to control the drip of the coffee, Sonny could tell that the monstrosity was well loved. He found a supersized can of off-brand coffee grounds in the cabinet directly above the maker started a strong pot. 

_Funny_ , Sonny thought, _I would’ve figured Barba for a coffee snob_. 

Sonny told Rafael as much when the man meandered lazily into the living room. 

“Sonny, I drink far too much coffee to pay eight dollars for each and every cup. How much money do you think I make?” Rafael deadpanned. “Besides,” he said, “coffee tastes like dirt no matter what you add to it. But I’m in too deep now. I’m almost certain that if I were to cut myself off, I’d die from the cumulative caffeine withdrawal.” 

Sonny smiled at Rafael’s playfulness paired with his hair sticking up at odd angles. The combination made him seem youthful. 

“Did you know that one in five lawyers has a drug addiction and one in four is an alcoholic?” Rafael asked, sinking down on the couch. “It’s best that my vices are limited to caffeine and young detectives.” 

Sonny flushed pink at being labeled one of Rafael’s addictions – as if he was something corrupt that Rafael just couldn’t quit. The whole thing seemed dangerous and sexy, a far cry from the domesticity of standing together in Rafael's kitchen. 

Not that Sonny was complaining. Leaning against the counter talking to Rafael as they waited for coffee to brew was a minuscule taste of the future he suddenly envisioned for himself. Addiction seemed like an accurate word for it; he’d barely scratched the surface of what a life with Rafael might entail and already he wanted to submit himself completely. 

Gone was the image of Sonny, a wife, two kids, and a dog in a moderately sized suburban home surrounded by a white picket fence. It was replaced by a still of Rafael in his arms, their hair turned a little grayer and rings on each of their left hands. 

The picture startled Sonny and he drove it away as quickly as it arrived. Not sure which bothered him more – the intrusion of a sudden fantasy in which he was married to a man or the fact that he’d never been so quick to imagine a future with someone – in favor of addressing Rafael’s last comment. 

“Raf, how old do you think I am? It’s been two days and you’ve called me young, like, three times,” Sonny mused. 

“Is Raf going to be a thing now?” Rafael asked, rolling his eyes. 

“I can stop,” Sonny offered.

“Or don’t,” Rafael said with a quirk of his lips. 

“Don’t deflect,” Sonny pressed. “How old do you think I am?” 

“Only if you tell me how old you think I am,” Rafael was just stalling while he determined which would be less offensive to the detective: shooting high and making it seem like he thought he looked old or shooting low and making it seem like he thought he was too young. 

“Thirty-nine,” Sonny guessed without hesitation.

Rafael snorted, “Yeah, no. What’s your real guess?” 

“Your turn,” Sonny said, unwilling to let Rafael off the hook. 

“Fine. Thirty,” Rafael guessed. 

“Huh,” Sonny looked down at his body. “You think?” he asked, patting his toned stomach. 

“How close was I?” asked Rafael. 

“Eh,” Sonny muttered. “I’m thirty-eight.” 

“Oh,” said Rafael brightly. “I’m forty-seven. That’s good. I mean, not for you, Mr. One Year Age Gap. But for me – I thought it was like fifteen.” He narrowed his eyes, “You were just being generous.” 

“No, I really didn’t think you were that old!” Sonny exclaimed. “I mean, no. That’s not what I meant.” 

Rafael surprised him by laughing. “That’s okay. If you hadn’t gotten rid of that mustache, I probably would’ve said fifty.” 

“I need to switch boroughs again,” Sonny grumbled.

The coffee pot finished filling and Sonny poured a mug for each of them. Much to Sonny’s chagrin, Rafael only had plain, solid-color and travel mugs – no quirky mugs with inspirational sayings or fun patterns. 

_I'm going to change that_ , Sonny thought as he joined Rafael on the couch. 

He sat a respectable distance from Rafael, as if their entire bodies hadn’t just been completely intertwined a few minutes before. Rafael, ignoring the intentional space Sonny left, slid down the couch so that their thighs were flush against one another. He took his mug from Sonny and sipped without waiting for it to cool. 

“Careful,” Sonny said, blowing on his own coffee. “We need that tongue.” 

Rafael smiled and shook his head. 

“Again, not what I meant,” Sonny corrected, not bothering to explain that he meant for _work_. “Breakfast?” 

“This is breakfast,” Rafael said and gestured with his mug. 

Sonny rolled his eyes. “No,” he said. “How do you like your eggs?” 

“Baked into muffins,” Rafael said and drained his cup. He handed it to Sonny who begrudgingly got up to refill it. When he returned to the couch, he folded one leg underneath himself and threw his coffee-free arm around Rafael’s shoulders. 

Sonny was instantly rewarded by Rafael leaning into him even as he sipped the too-hot coffee. 

“Do you have plans today?” Rafael asked. 

“I should go to Mass,” Sonny said, acutely aware of the scent of Rafael’s hair inches away from his nose, “clean my apartment before I go UC.” 

“Do you regularly go to church?” Rafael asked. 

“Uh,” Sonny didn’t know if that was a deal breaker. “Yeah, usually,” he replied honestly. “I go with my parents and my sisters. And Bella’s family.” 

“What time do you need to leave?” Rafael asked. 

“Uh – actually, is it okay if I stay? I figure if I’m going to commit a bunch of sins I outta do them all at once. Makes each one seem less bad individually. Probably,” Sonny justified.

“I went to Catholic school and I can personally guarantee that that’s not how it works,” Rafael said, placing his now twice-emptied mug on the coffee table. He twisted under Sonny’s arm so they could better face one another. 

“Hey, I went to Catholic school, too,” Sonny said. “Where did you go?” 

“What?” asked Rafael, elbowing Sonny in the ribs. “You think we might’ve crossed paths? I might’ve helped you learn to tie your shoes?” 

Sonny rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to get to know you, ass.” 

Rafael laughed. He’d done more of that the last two days than he can remember in years. “I went to St. Dominic, of all places. It closed down a couple years ago, though. So don’t make plans for our kids to go there or anything,” he joked. 

Sonny dropped his head against the back of the couch, “God, Raf,” he moaned. 

“I’m definitely joking. Please don’t leave,” Rafael said, grinning. 

Sonny shook his head and got up off the couch. He took their empty mugs back to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Raf, don’t you eat?” Sonny asked, reviewing the fridge’s comically empty shelves.

“Not if I can help it,” Rafael said as he joined Sonny in the kitchen. 

Sonny slammed the fridge door shut and looked at Rafael. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his loose sweatpants, and at some point, he’d put on a pair of socks. His t-shirt pulled tightly across a strong chest, and his skin looked much tanner against the white t-shirt than it normally did with his dark suits.

Sonny couldn’t help but smile. In one quick stride, he pressed Rafael into the doorframe and smashed their lips together. 

Rafael made a sharp noise of surprise before melting into Sonny’s kiss. Sonny’s urgent kisses went straight between his legs. He spread his legs and Sonny immediately responded by pressing his thigh between Rafael’s. 

Rafael guided Sonny’s hands to his hips, and grinded down. Sonny moaned and dug his fingers harder into Rafael’s skin. 

“No more eggs?” Rafael asked.

“You’re out anyway,” Sonny said. 

Rafael pressed another kiss to Sonny’s pink lips. “I doubt I’ve ever bought a carton of eggs in my adult life,” he mumbled against his lips. 

Sonny laughed and pulled away. Rafael relaxed against the doorframe. He realized that his body hadn’t been so relaxed in months. The stress of his job typically weighed on his shoulders through every evening and weekend, but without warning the weight was gone. His cheeks even hurt from how frequently he smiled during his short time with Sonny. 

As Sonny moved to look for something else to eat in the cabinets, Rafael spoke. “So, here’s something,” he began, “I like having you around.” 

“Are we going to re-do the thing from last night?” Sonny asked. He pulled a box of oatmeal from a cabinet and smiled over his shoulder. 

“God no,” Rafael said. “I’m just saying. Not to open the door too wide here, but not communicating has been a problem in my relationships in the past. So…” he trailed off. 

Sonny took two bowls out of another cabinet. “Okay, let’s unpack that,” he said. “One, that’s so cute. I would never, in a million years, have expected you to say something like that. Two, you called this a relationship. It’s been two days, so you’re never allowed to call me ‘overeager’ again.” 

“Do you want me to kick you out, Carisi?” Rafael asked. 

“I dare you,” Sonny laughed took two spoons from a drawer. 

“Just make the damn oatmeal, Detective,” Rafael narrowed his eyes. _When did I get like this?_ he thought. 

“You’re just… mushier than I thought you’d be,” Sonny said with a smirk. 

“I just want you to know that you can tell me things. And also not be freaked out when I tell you things,” Rafael said honestly. 

“Okay. But hey, let’s do something today,” Sonny suggested. “Out.” 

Rafael was taken aback. Sure, he’d just called their thing a relationship, but it was a big step to go out together. It was fast, Rafael thought. 

“Okay.” 

…

Three hours later, after breakfast, a few more kissing sessions, and a cab ride, Sonny and Rafael arrived at the Rock. 

“Sonny, I’ve never done anything so tourist-y in my entire life,” Rafael grumped. 

“I still can’t believe you’ve never been ice skating before this,” Sonny said as they entered the line to buy tickets. 

“Ice skating is dangerous and cold,” Rafael said. 

“You can pick next time. We’ll go see Kinky Boots or something you like,” Sonny said. 

Rafael scoffed and Sonny continued, “But, trust me, you’re going to like this.” _I'm going to like this_ , Sonny thought, taking special note that Rafael’s nose was already the most appealing shade of pink.

...

Sonny woke up Monday morning in his own bed. He was painfully aware of the loneliness that had already settled over him without Rafael close by, but he had to prepare to go undercover.

After pulling on a dingy hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans, Sonny packed some ratty clothes and a couple pairs of worn shoes in a grungy duffel bag. He also packed a phone charger and a few basic toiletries, already annoyed about how few possessions he could take with him. 

Sonny rubbed a hand over the stubble he’d been growing out the last few days and glanced at his watch – 6:24. He needed to call his family and tell them where he’d be. 

30 minutes later, Sonny was out the door. The talk with his mom went about the way it always did before he went undercover: a thousand questions he didn’t really know the answers to and empty promises that he’d come home safe. 

...

Sonny arrived at the precinct and fell into his desk chair with a sigh. 

“You ready?” asked Rollins, who sat across from him at her own desk. “Leiu briefed us,” she said, gesturing between herself and Fin. 

“Yeah,” he answered. “God knows I’m not excited about it. I hate having to get in these guys’ heads,” he said, shaking his own. “I just have a few hours of paperwork to get through first.”

It was at that moment that Benson’s office door opened and Barba strolled out. 

“We’ll call you when we get something, but it’s tough to tell when that’ll be,” said Olivia. 

“That’s fine,” he said. He turned to Sonny. “Be careful, Detective,” Barba said seriously before turning on his heel and leaving the office. 

Sonny managed to stifle a smile as he thought back to Saturday evening when Barba said the same thing. _Huh_ , Sonny thought, _Barba_. _I guess I compartmentalize_. 

Hours passed and Sonny finalized his UC records. He backdated and filed police reports, arrest reports, fines, and other paperwork to their respective databases, quickly creating a criminal history for himself going back 20 years. He double-checked his wallet to make sure that all of the cards read Lenny Mueller and not Dominick Carisi, Jr. 

After double and triple checking all of the paperwork and his belongings, Sonny glanced at the clock on his computer – 11:11. _Make a wish_ , he thought. _I wish for this to be over sooner rather than later_. He pulled his UC phone out of the locked drawer in his desk and replaced it with his own wallet, badge, gun, and phone. He locked the drawer and leaned back in his chair going over a mental checklist of things he needed to do before leaving. 

After fidgeting with his UC phone for a few moments, Sonny leaned forward and unlocked the drawer again. He pulled out his phone and powered it on. It had only been off since earlier that morning after calling his mother, but he already had several messages. A few were from his mom, one from Bella, and one from Barba. _Rafael_ , Sonny thought. He opened the message. 

* _I wish we had been able to talk – but it was nice to see you._ * read Rafael’s message. 

Sonny shot back a text:

* _It was good. I’m about to leave. I’ll text when I can. See you soon_ *

Sonny momentarily considered sending a heart or a cutesy emoji, but that would be... _gay_? He ignored the thought, turned his phone off again, threw it in the drawer, and locked it a final time. 

Sonny stood and gathered his things. “See you guys,” he said. Fin and Amanda looked up from their work and said short goodbyes. Sonny poked his head into Benson’s office and, with one final reminder to be careful, he was on his way. 

...

Sonny approached at a shady-looking house in Harlem. He glanced at his watch – 11:56. He loitered out front for just a moment before, as instructed, he walked around the side of the house and knocked on the door. 

A tall, thin woman in a tight dress answered the door. She was beautiful, but her face was prematurely-aged, undoubtedly from drugs and constant stress. She tossed her long, blond hair over her shoulder and asked, “You are Lenny?” in a thick Russian accent. 

Sonny nodded, and the woman moved out of the doorway to let him in. He stepped on linoleum flooring into a warm kitchen. There was silence all except water boiling in a kettle on the stove. 

“Have a seat,” said Anya, gesturing to a cheap, mismatched dining set. Sonny threw his duffel bag into the floor and sat. 

Anya went to the stove and turned off the eye. She poured the boiling water from the kettle into a mug. She carefully dropped a tea bag into the mug and moved to sit across from Sonny. 

Sonny was struck by how young she was. He knew better than to judge people by their appearances, but _still_. She looked too young and beautiful to be the whip-smart, cruel madam he knew her to be. The superficial ruin of her skin was a damn shame. 

“Lenny, are you police?” asked Anya. 

Sonny didn’t miss a beat. “Nah,” he said. He slouched down in his chair and pulled a face as if to say, _me? Never_. 

“I am sure you will be fine with giving me your bag,” she said. Sonny shrugged and used his foot to push the dirty duffel to her. “Thank you,” she said, bending down to pick it up. “Take off clothes,” she said. She began to rifle through Sonny’s belongings.

Sonny hesitated. “Make sure you are not hiding anything," Anya said by way of explanation, “wires, badge, gun, drugs.” 

“There’s a gun in that bag,” Sonny said, standing. He was a criminal – it would make perfect sense for him to have a gun, or so he told himself.

“I take,” she said, pulling the gun from his bag. She investigated it, taking note of the file marks where a serial number should have been. “You will get different one from us,” she said. 

Sonny peeled his clothes off layer by layer, tossing each garment on the table. Anya rummaged through his clothes, checking the pockets, holes, hems, and seams for anything amiss. He reached his underwear and paused, hoping she wouldn’t make him. No such luck. She stared at him until he got the message and slipped them off. 

Sonny resisted the urge to cover himself while she finished her inspections. He stood in the middle on the kitchen fully nude for fifteen minutes while she looked through his UC phone, scrolling through his messages and photos, all of which were fixed to match his identity. 

At Anya’s prompting, Sonny snatched his clothes off the table and pulled them back on. When he was finished, she nodded her head. 

“You are good,” she said. “How much do you know?” she asked. 

Sonny sat back down. “I know I’m gonna be a handler. I’ve got experience,” he said. 

“Good. Now – do not speak unless spoken to. Do not you dare hurt one of my girls. Do not do anything to jeopardize this operation under my watch. Fair, no?” Anya said, counting off the rules on her perfectly manicured fingers. 

Sonny nodded. 

“Everything else will be explained to you when you get to the house – not my job,” Anya said. “I’m sure since you are here you understand importance of loyalty. Tread carefully.” 

Sonny nodded and Anya’s phone buzzed on the counter. She stood and answered the call, “Ja?” Sonny couldn’t hear the conversation well, but he gathered from Anya that a car was coming to take them to Anya’s ranch. 

An hour later, Sonny, Anya, and a the driver, Rudolph, pulled up the long driveway to Anya’s ranch house. Anya, who had been texting the entire drive, got out of the car and went into the house without so much as a parting glance to Sonny. 

Rudolph got out of the car and, instead of following Anya to the house, led Sonny to a nearby barn. Before even entering, Sonny could hear music bellowing from the inside along with other telltale sounds of a party even though it was only – Sonny glanced at his watch – 1:23 in the afternoon. 

As they entered, Rudolph clapped Sonny on the shoulder and yelled the first words he’d heard him speak, “Enjoy yourself, but not too much. You don’t want to see Smirnov when something happens to a girl. Meet me outside at eight tonight. We’ve gotta drive to Kentucky.”

Sonny pulled a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and began looking around. The barn had been gutted into one huge room filled with dingy tables, couches, chairs, a massive TV blasting sports over the music, and drinks on every surface. Thuggish men and women with barely any clothing were tightly packed in the barn, drinking and dancing. It reminded Sonny of _Dirty Dancing_ , but a lot sleazier. 

The barn was crowded, so unlike at small parties Sonny had attended in the past, it was easy to blend in. He didn’t have to worry as much about acting like a slime-ball because no one was really paying attention. But as he waded through the crowd, he made lewd remarks to the half-naked girls and nodded at the drunk men. 

At some point, Sonny was handed a beer. He punched the guy on the shoulder who opened it for him and took a long swig before finally settling into conversation with a man he discovered went to the public school a few miles from his childhood home. 

After about 15 minutes, Sonny felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see Anya looking at him with hooded eyes and a seductive smile plastered on her face. She leaned against his body. “You see girl you like, Lenny?” asked Anya, her breath uncomfortably hot on his ear. 

“Maybe,” Sonny said, smirking. 

“Show,” Anya commanded, and Sonny’s cheeks flushed. 

Sonny stammered, “Uh, that... Blondie over there.” He jerked his head to the center of the crowd, choosing a random woman who reminded him a little of Rollins because of her petite figure, shoulder length blond hair, and bright blue eyes. 

“Get her,” Anya said. “Take her right there,” she said. 

“I – uh,” Sonny said and thought back to what both Anya and Rudolph said earlier about hurting the girls. “This is kind of a trip, but I can’t. I have – I have HIV,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. 

“Ah, is fine. Girl there,” Anya said, pointing at a similar looking blond woman, “looks same – also has HIV. Take her.” 

“Oh. Great,” said Sonny, feigning nonchalance. “Where can I take her?” he asked. 

“Right there – on floor, couch, wherever,” she said. Sonny’s heart dropped. 

“I dunno, I –” he began, but was cut off by the barrel of his own gun pressed against his temple and a click. 

Everyone around Sonny and Anya froze and their eyes locked on the pair. Someone shut off the music, causing momentary uproar before the partygoers realized the cause. The barn quickly descended into absolute silence. 

“Anya, I –” Click. Anya cocked the gun and Sonny froze, all traces of color draining out of his face.

“Yvette!” Anya shouted, “come.” The second blonde woman wove through the crowd and stood before Anya and Sonny, her eyes cast downward. 

Sonny’s mind was racing through all his options. This was supposed to be a long-haul undercover op, so he didn’t have his badge. Anya was holding his gun and he’d seen that every nine out of ten guys at the party had a gun strapped to their own hips. If he tried to knock the gun out of her hand, he’d last maybe two seconds before some other guy capped him. That left Sonny with only one defense: his words. She probably didn’t even know he was UC. She was probably just testing him.

Sonny ventured carefully, “C’mon, let me take Yvette into a closet or somethin’ more private.” 

“Save it, Detective Carisi,” she said. He felt like he was going to vomit. 

“Hey, I dunno what ya’ talk –” 

“I said stop,” Anya said. She jerked her arm back and pistol-whipped Sonny across the cheek. 

He reeled backwards and caught himself on a burly man who immediately shoved him away. His hand went to his cheek and tears sprang to his eyes as he staggered. _Thank God she’s so fuckin’ little_ , Sonny thought. 

Anya trained the gun back on his head. “Sit,” she said, and gestured to the nearest couch. 

“Okay, okay,” Sonny said, slowly moving to the couch. The couple on the couch got up and Sonny slowly sank down onto the uncomfortable cushions. 

“Yvette,” Anya prompted. Yvette kneeled down between Sonny’s legs, still not looking at him. Anya sat next to Sonny on the couch with one leg folded underneath her and her free hand on his shoulder. Yvette hooked her fingers into his waistband. He pushed them away and Anya’s eyes narrowed. Sonny was floored by the stillness of the packed barn. 

“That’s how it’ll be, then,” Anya said. Without a moment's hesitation, she pointed the gun at Sonny’s right foot and fired. 

Sonny’s high-pitched scream pierced the room. He couldn’t hold back the burning tears when they pricked his eyes like hot irons. His face went blood red and contorted in suffering. Excruciating pains shot up his leg. He squeezed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth, trying to pretend he were anywhere else.

Sonny had missed his chance to get out alive. He could’ve done a thousand different things to try and escape, but now he would just sit there, on a disgusting cum-and-alcohol-stained couch, and die in a whorehouse. The pain was unbearable and he even barely noticed when one of the women bent over to wrap his foot in a towel. 

Sonny tried his best to protest as Yvette yanked his pants down and pulled out his dick, but his body was frozen in agony. He could only try to push her away with hands that suddenly wouldn’t work and whimper in pain. He threw his head back against the couch and fought back the bile rising in this throat. 

Yvette spit on Sonny’s cock and worked it up and down in her hand. “You’re so big, Detective,” Anya said and a bit of laughter peppered through the crowd. He pried open one eye and immediately forced them shut again when he saw all of the cell phones pointed at him. 

Sonny could feel his body responding to Yvette’s hands and mouth, and he willed it to stop. He willed his body to do anything but sit there and take it, but the throbbing pains from his foot and cheek rendered him utterly helpless. 

“You like that, Detective?” asked Anya patronizingly. Sonny’s thoughts were scattered everywhere. He cursed his body’s betrayal and hoped that he would finish quickly so that maybe they would leave him alone. 

But he worried that when he finished Anya would just shoot him anyway. He wasn’t ready to die. More than that, he needed his erection to just go down. The pain deterred him from finishing quickly in Yvette’s mouth, but it wasn’t enough to eliminate his arousal altogether. 

His thoughts flashed to Barba – soft, delicious-smelling Rafael. Sonny suddenly hoped he would die sooner rather than later so he didn’t have to think a single moment longer about what could have been with the ADA. He thought of his family – his parents, sisters, niece. He thought of his work family and wondered how long it would take for them to find his body. 

A woman came up behind him and slipped her hands down the front of his shirt, scratching her nails lightly over his chest. Sonny could feel himself getting closer to orgasming and he willed himself to ignore that it was all on video. That alone was enough to make him hope he’d die. 

“Yvette, stop. Pick him up,” Sonny heard Anya say.

Yvette’s mouth left him and Sonny felt strong hands grip his arms. He was jerked up off the couch and his eyes flew open. The towel wrapped around his foot fell off and a bloody trail followed Sonny as he was dragged around the couch. 

The conversation in the barn picked back up around Sonny as everyone lost interest. Sonny’s entire body protested as two large men forced him to bend over the back of the couch. He gritted his teeth and tried again to writhe out of their grip, but their fingers only dug harder into his arms. 

“Have fun,” Anya said rubbing circles on Sonny’s shoulder with the end of his gun, “pig.” Sonny felt a rough hand yank his pants and underwear down from behind. His moaned protests only earned him a harsh shove of his face into the couch. 

Even with the sounds of the party picking back up, Sonny heard the distinct sound of a zipper being undone. He made a last-ditch effort to call for help; to break free; to survive. Sonny felt cold hands grip his behind. A foot kicked his legs apart and he wondered how the people around him could ignore the howl that emanated from deep from within his chest. 

Someone turned the music back up, causing the partygoers to cheer. The roar of the music felt like a hammer to Sonny’s skull. His pleas were covered by the deafening volume of the party, so no one but a few interested spectators noticed when one of the men forced his dick into Sonny. 

The pain was unreal. Sonny could feel himself tear more with each brutal thrust. The man reached around Sonny’s leg and gripped his dick. Each thrust of the man’s cock into Sonny brought a firm stroke of his hand. Sonny felt himself draw closer to orgasm in spite of the torment the rest of his body was experiencing. 

He knew it was stupid, and he knew that it didn’t matter, but Sonny’s only coherent thoughts were, _I'm not gay – I can’t help how my body reacts. I’m not gay_. His fingers dug into the couch cushions as he tried to stay grounded. 

Sonny shut his eyes tightly and warded off his climax as long as he possibly could. But when he finally came, fresh tears spilled on to his cheeks. 

The man finished inside Sonny shortly after and ran his semen-covered hand through Sonny’s hair. He whispered, “Thanks, baby,” in Sonny’s ear, and when no response came, he spat on the back of Sonny’s neck. “Ungrateful pig,” he muttered as he withdrew his hard dick from Sonny’s bloody, raw opening. He zipped his pants and slapped Sonny’s rear. 

“Very nice,” Anya said and stroked Sonny’s cheek with her open hand. Sonny flinched. He hadn’t even realized she was still sitting there. She reached two fingers into the top of her dressed and pulled out a small bag of white powder. 

Anya opened the baggie and poured a thick line of cocaine across her pinkie. “Detective,” she prompted. When Sonny didn’t move, a man’s hand fisted in his hair and jerked his head to face Anya. Anya placed the barrel of Sonny’s gun on his temple again and smiled sweetly. She slowly moved her hand so that the cocaine-laden finger was right beneath Sonny’s nose. “Take,” she commanded. 

Sonny huffed out a pained breath, blowing the cocaine back into Anya’s lap. She narrowed her eyes and dropped the gun into her lap. She loaded her finger with another thick line and clamped a tight hand over Sonny’s mouth. She pushed the cocaine up his nose while he struggled to pull his hair out of the man’s grasp. He tried to take shallow breaths, but he couldn’t avoid inhaling most of the crystalline drug. 

Anya leaned forward and removed her hands. She spoke loudly with her lips brushing Sonny’s, “You are from sex crimes, yes? Investigate this.” 

Anya stood and walked around the couch so she was standing behind Sonny. Sonny felt shuffling behind him and heard the signature click of a switchblade. Sonny braced himself for the cuts he was sure would follow, his heart racing and body throbbing in pain. 

Nothing could have prepared Sonny for the sensation of a blade being driven into him. His mind completely detached from his body; he heard his pleading screams mingle with the music, but it sounded like someone else entirely. He wondered briefly which would come first: bleeding out through his foot and backside or fainting from the sheer agony.

Sonny yelled until his throat could only produce a raspy whine, but still, Anya’s relentless pounding wouldn’t stop. She forced the blade in and out of him until his body shook. His legs were coated in thick, hot trails of blood and his pants and underwear were making fine work of absorbing the blood that pooled at his ankles. There were even smatterings across Anya’s expensive shoes and the back of the couch. What was once his anus became nothing but a raw, gaping wound. 

Sonny made a quick peace with his God and prayed that he would just lose consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: After Anya reveals that she knows he is a police officer, Sonny is brutally beaten, raped in several ways, and forced to do cocaine, all at gunpoint.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please don't forget to leave comments telling me what you think and drop me a prompt at pleaseneverchange on Tumblr. 
> 
> Thanks again to the wonderful smindersonfan on Tumblr for beta-ing!
> 
> Also, I'm _fairly_ certain that it's been mentioned where Barba went to Catholic school in canon but I can't find it online and I don't have time to rewatch all the episodes to find out. If anyone knows, please let me know and I'll change it.
> 
> ALSO, the next chapter will be considerably lighter.


	3. As For Me, I'm Okay - For Now, Anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael swore he did everything he could to stop tears from forming in his eyes. Then he swore he did everything to keep them from spilling over.
> 
> And Olivia, later, would swear that she didn’t read too far into it.
> 
> But at the time, she just snatched a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to Rafael.

Rafael was in court when Sonny was deposited on the sidewalk in front of the New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

Or more accurately, Sonny was _tossed_. The car barely came to a rolling stop in front of the hospital when Sonny’s limp, unconscious body was flung onto the ground between a group of first-year nurses and a surprised elderly man helping his wife into a taxi.

The presence of witnesses hardly mattered one bit to Anya’s men because SVU would already know who mutilated their detective. That was, after all, the point. Anya didn’t want Sonny dead. She wanted the NYPD to know that they couldn’t touch her – she wanted to make an example out of him.

Tragic though it was, Carmen waited for Rafael to return to his office to inform him. She wasn’t so insensitive as to lump it into Rafael’s other things to do in an email; _Kablonski arraignment tomorrow at nine, meeting with Rita Calhoun to work out a plea directly after, and, oh, yeah, Detective Carisi was brutally beaten and raped_.

Instead, Carmen said it politely and concisely, just the way she knew Barba liked. “There was an issue with Detective Carisi’s undercover operation. He’s in surgery at New York-Presbyterian,” she said.

Rafael swallowed thickly and his hand tightened around the handle of his briefcase. “Pardon,” he said not as a question, but a rejection. He half-expected Carmen to withdraw her words.

Carmen, dashing Rafael’s hopes that he had misheard her, said, “I can clear the rest of your afternoon.”

Rafael chewed the inside of his cheek as he was prone to do with nervousness while he considered how rearranging his obligations would affect the rest of the week’s schedule. Almost immediately realizing he didn’t care, he gave a terse nod. He thanked Carmen, spun on his heel, and was out the door before she could respond.

It took Barba all of five minutes to reach the hospital’s emergency room doors. He demanded that the woman at the front desk inform him of the state of a Mr. Dominick Carisi.

“Are you family?”

“No,” he frowned.

 _This probably won’t work_ , he thought. “I’m Mr. Carisi’s lawyer. I need to speak with the family. I’m sure you can understand.”

“Ah,” the woman said brightly. She tapped on her keyboard for a moment before saying, “He’s currently in surgery, sir, but his emergency contacts have been notified. The surgery ward is in the center of the hospital.” She directed Barba to where he might find them.

Barba entered the surgery waiting area and immediately recognized Sonny’s sister Bella, who was pacing back and forth with one hand cradled protectively around her swollen belly.

“Mrs. Sullivan,” Rafael said as he approached.

“Mr. Barba?” Bella asked, a puzzled expression twisting the pain already clearly displayed in her features. “Please, it’s Bella,” she said, ever exhibiting her Staten Island upbringing, even in a time of crisis. “What are you doing here?”

“I – um. There will obviously be a case. Just staying in the loop,” Barba blustered.

Accepting the answer, Bella slouched down in a chair. “Detective Benson is here, too. And some others, I think. I don’t know,” Bella said, burying her face in her hands. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked.

Rafael attempted to maintain a cool façade because, _no_ , he had assumed Bella would know.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” Rafael said in the most soothing voice he could muster. He sat down next to Bella and put his briefcase at his feet. He fluttered his hands helplessly, trying to decide if he should attempt a calming pat on her shoulder.

At that moment, Olivia and Amanda entered the room through doors that clearly led somewhere sterile, and Barba dropped his hands into his lap.

“Olivia,” Rafael said, practically leaping out of his seat. “What’s happening?”

Olivia saw the distress in Rafael’s eyes, even through his plastered-on picture of calm. She placed her hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “Sit down, Rafa,” she instructed softly. He sat next to Bella and the rest of the detectives filled in around him.

“This is what I know,” Olivia said, directed at Bella. Her voice was gentle and her head tilted, as if she was speaking to a victim. “It seems like something went wrong while Carisi was undercover.”

“But he wasn’t even gone a full day,” Bella supplied as if that were a reason it couldn’t possibly be _their_ Sonny lying on the operating table.

“I know, Bella, I’m so sorry. He was assaulted: a gunshot to his foot, a few broken bones, a punctured lung, and it looks like there might have been some sexual trauma,” Olivia said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees to make eye contact with a slumped Bella.

Olivia continued, “But, Bella, he’s going to be okay.”

Bella snapped straight as if she’d been doused in cold water.

“I have to call our parents,” she said, already reaching over her large stomach into the chair beside her to dig through her purse for her cell phone. “I meant to, I just… I,” she couldn’t quite get the words out.

“It’s okay, Bella. Why doesn’t Amanda walk with you to get some air for a minute while you call?” Olivia asked.

Bella nodded absently and took off out the door, leaving her bag and coat behind. Detective Rollins followed close on her heels. Rafael shifted his gaze to Olivia with trepidation.

“Olivia, what really happened?” Rafael asked the second as the two women were out the front doors.

“Security camera footage showed Carisi getting thrown out of a black car. The windows were too tinted to see the driver, and the man who threw him out was wearing a ski mask,” she said. “Probably stolen or fake, but Fin is running the plates now. And it took a while for us to figure out –”

“Fine, but what _happened_?” Rafael asked, impatiently this time.

“We’re not sure how they knew he was UC yet, but his physical injuries,” she hesitated, “aren’t good. He has three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken arm, one twisted ankle and one foot with a bullet wound clean through it, a black eye, and severe sexual trauma.”

“What does that mean, Olivia? Sexual trauma can mean a lot of things,” Rafael pressed.

“He was anally raped with a knife and possibly other ways. We’re rushing the rape kit,” she said.

Rafael swore he did everything he could to stop tears from forming in his eyes. Then he swore he did everything to keep them from spilling over.

And Olivia, later, would swear that she didn’t read too far into it.

But at the time, she just snatched a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to Rafael.

“He _will_ be okay, Rafa,” she said.

“No one is okay after something like this. Remember who you’re talking to,” Rafael snapped. More than anything he needed to see Sonny. He wouldn’t believe that he was okay any other way.

“Exactly. And you know as well as I do that physical injuries heal and there are ways for mental ones to heal, too - even if it takes a while longer,” she said. 

A moment of silence passed before Rafael dried his eyes and asked, “What now?”

“I guess we wait,” Olivia said, switching to the seat Bella had just evacuated.

And that’s exactly what they did.

Rafael settled into the uncomfortable chair and began to comb over every single exchange he’d ever shared with Sonny Carisi. About an hour in, he started praying to a god he didn’t really think was listening. He begged. He got angry. He listed reasons that Sonny was the last person on Earth who deserved something like this. He bargained. He swore that if Sonny made it out okay, he would spend every waking second devoted to Sonny’s happiness.

Rafael knew it was premature, he knew it was _immature_. He knew that Sonny might not even want him the same way when he emerged from the operating theater. He knew it was way too early to make a commitment of any kind. He knew more than anything else he wanted to spend forever as happy as he was the last two days. He knew that it was a selfish think to think about when Sonny was cut open fighting for his life. 

Rafael and Olivia were eventually joined by a red-eyed Bella and, shortly thereafter, Sonny’s parents, two more sisters, and Tommy.

Rafael took the time to introduce himself and study the Carisi family. Sonny’s father, Dominick Sr., towered much taller than Rafael, and probably taller than Sonny himself. Rafael wasn’t surprised to see that the man looked like an older, stouter version of Sonny. The only other substantial differences Rafael could find on the older man were a larger nose, grayer hair, and sadder eyes.

Even Sonny’s mother and two older sisters were each an inch taller than Rafael. Bella was so petite compared to the rest of them. There was a very clear division of genes between the four Carisi children. The other three Carisi women had tanned skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. Sonny’s mother, _Valerie_ , Rafael found out, seemed well put together in spite of the ordeal she was going through. Her features were soft with age and gray streaks ran through her hair. Her makeup stayed perfectly in place, completely unaware of the tears spilling down her cheeks and her legs stayed crossed at the ankle. She nervously fidgeted with her necklace while one of her older daughters, Gina, stroked her arm and murmured pacifications into her ear.

Gina wore jeans and a loose sweater and left her hair to fall in waves around her face. She looked looks sort of like a mom, Rafael thought. In stark contrast, Theresa appeared as if she’d just been called out of a board meeting. Her pantsuit was well tailored and her lipstick matched her ruby red pumps. Her furious texting pulled the ensemble together nicely.

Hours later, after the sun had already set, Sonny’s surgeon finally emerged. Rafael nearly jumped out of his chair.

“Who here is family?” the surgeon asked.

Sonny’s family identified themselves. Olivia said, “We’re NYPD,” and gestured between herself and Rafael with her badge in her hand.

Satisfied, the surgeon explained Sonny’s procedures. Rafael barely had the presence of mind to follow his description of the reconstruction of shards of bone in Sonny’s left arm, the stitching of the rectum and anus, and other heartbreaking procedures to mend his Sonny.

Sonny’s mother tearfully thanked the surgeon, and with a curt nod, he left.

Minutes passed in complete silence until a fresh-faced intern appeared in the room. “Mr. Carisi had been moved to room 5019. You can see him if you’d like, but he’s still asleep. Be aware that when he wakes up, he’ll be out of it.”

Mrs. Carisi thanked the intern, who left with a tight-lipped smile. No one made a move to get up.

 

Dominick Sr. was the first to stand. He extended a hand to his wife, who gingerly took it without looking. The Carisi family slowly made their way to the nearest elevator. Rafael made a move to follow, but Olivia put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“We should try and get a little work done, Barba,” Olivia offered gently.

Rafael glanced at his watch and gritted his teeth. It was almost nine at night, and they both knew no work was going to get done.

Gesturing for Rafael to stay put, Olivia quickly caught up with the Carisis before the elevator doors closed. She told them she would contact them as soon as she knew something, and hurried back to Rafael.

Olivia guided Rafael out the front doors with a hand on his shoulder. She put him in a cab with few parting words, but told him to get some rest – they’d talk in the morning.

The moment the cab pulled away from the curb, Rafael pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his text messages with Carisi.

*Hey Sonny* he typed and quickly deleted.

*I miss you* he typed and deleted again.

It was then that he realized Sonny’s phone would be locked up at the precinct anyway, and he returned his phone to his pocket.

Rafael arrived back at his apartment, which was noticeably, painfully empty of gangly legs and Staten Island accent.

He stripped out of his clothes and hung them up. He was just sad, he told himself. That wasn’t an excuse to act in a way that he’d regret the next day.

He forced himself in the shower because he knew he would want to take one even less the next morning. He brushed his teeth with one hand while he washed his hair with the other. He barely toweled the dampness off of his skin before throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and falling into bed. As if his body knew he needed a break, he was able to fall asleep without shedding a single tear.

…

The next morning, Rafael showed up to the precinct 45 minutes before anyone but Olivia. He thanked the universe just that one time for Olivia’s addiction, or dedication as she called it, to her job as he stepped into her office.

Olivia looked up at Rafael over her reading glasses. She gestured to two identical paper coffee cups on her desk.

“Bless you,” Rafael said as he snatched one and sank on to her couch.

“Fin ran the plates. Counterfeit, obviously. Rape kit should be back within the next couple of hours if I still have any pull in the state of New York. I know that Bella and their mom stayed with Carisi last night and that he hasn’t woken up yet,” she spoke swiftly but tenderly, suspecting that Rafael needed it, regardless of if she knew why.

“Anything else?” Rafael asked.

“We’ve got a watch for the plates but they’ve almost definitely changed them, not that finding the car would help all that much. We know who did it,” Olivia frowned.

“I know. What now?” Rafael asked, only somewhat rhetorically.

“You go to work, the rest of us figure out how we’re going to shut this Anya bitch down for good. Nobody touches an SVU detective and walks away. And I didn’t say that,” Olivia emphasized.

Rafael let out a long sigh and stood. _Wasted cab ride_ , he thought.

“Call me when you get something useful,” Rafael muttered as he left her office, coffee in hand.

Rafael knew he should just go to work. He knew he had paperwork to fill out and meetings to attend, but before long, a text was sent to Carmen with instructions to push back his work another full day.

Rafael spent the short cab ride to the hospital considering the possibility of Sonny not wanting him there when he woke up. Unfortunately, or _fortunately_ , his brain offered uselessly, the floodgates had already opened. Rafael had recognized and verbalized his feelings for Sonny. They had already been projected into the world. It wasn't a thing he could just tamper down and ignore.

Rafael found himself just outside room 5019. He knocked gently and a nurse opened the door. The small room was crowded with Carisis. Bella was sleeping in a hard-looking recliner by a narrow window and Mrs. Carisi’s chin was resting in her hands, purse at her feet. She barely glanced up at Rafael’s arrival.

The nurse removed a thermometer from her cart to take Sonny’s temperature, and the man himself barely stirred. Rafael looked at him with sad eyes until Sonny’s mother sniffed.

“Good morning, Mrs. Carisi,” Rafael said in barely a whisper.

“Is it?” Mrs. Carisi said in a normal speaking voice. She was a little more angry than she was worried today: angry that her baby got hurt the way he did, angry at the NYPD for not having enough coverage to protect him. She didn’t really know who to blame for Sonny’s condition, so she was curt with everyone who she knew was associated with Sonny’s job. So she was short with Rafael, not knowing that he hadn’t wanted Sonny to go undercover either. 

“Has he been up yet?” Rafael asked, maintaining a whisper. 

“Yes,” Mrs. Carisi said as loudly as before. “He was up for about five minutes around three this morning. Out of it, as the doctor said he would be.” 

Sonny’s eyes fluttered at the intrusion to the quiet, causing Rafael’s heart to jump. Sonny seemed to suddenly notice the foreign object in his mouth and he moaned in displeasure as his eyelids fluttered and his eyes finally opened.

Mrs. Carisi jumped out of her chair and practically kicked her purse across the floor. She rushed to her son’s side, and Rafael nearly followed. She took Sonny’s arm not wrapped in a cast, careful to avoid the IV tubes dripping fluids through the crook of his elbow. She softly stroked two fingers over his discolored skin. His normally pale skin had a yellowish tint and his eyes looked purple and gaunt. His hair was messy and looked thinner than Rafael remembered.

“Sonny, my boy,” Mrs. Carisi said with palpable relief in her voice.

The nurse removed the thermometer and trashed the disposable end. “Hey, Ma,” Sonny croaked. He stuttered a cough. “Water?” he asked.

The nurse nodded. “I think that can be arranged. And I’ll be back in a few hours to take your vitals again, Mr. Carisi,” she said. He smiled weakly, and she rolled her clunky medical cart out the door.

It was only then that Sonny noticed a silent Rafael standing at the foot of his bed. Rafael had never seen someone so sickly light up as much as Sonny did at that moment. His eyes opened wider and his dry, cracking lips stretched the small smile for the nurse into a wide grin. Rafael had never been so happy to miss work.

The tension held in Rafael’s shoulders fell away with the knowledge that, even in such a poor state, he was able to make Carisi happy. Rafael’s feet took over and made him step around the opposite side of the bed from Mrs. Carisi. He dared not do something reckless like take Sonny’s hand, so he stuffed his own hands firmly in his pockets.

“How are you?” Rafael asked like a moron.

Sonny’s fingers on his broken hand softly grasped against the blankets on his hospital bed as a replacement for Rafael’s hand.

“I’ve been better,” Sonny rasped, causing another cough to explode from is chest mingled with a moan of pain.

“Oh, good. You can’t talk,” Rafael teased, earning another genuine smile. Not even the discomfort of Sonny’s mother watching them interact dampered 

A different nurse entered with a pitcher of water and rushed out without so much as a ‘hello.’ Rafael, jumping at the opportunity to do something – anything – for Sonny, poured ice water from the pitcher into a styrofoam cup with a bendy straw.

Rafael emphasized bending the straw to amuse Sonny and placed it between his craggy lips. Sonny moved his bandaged hand to take the cup from Rafael’s hand, but didn’t know to anticipate the vicious pain that shot from his ribs at the motion. He let out a pained cry and Mrs. Carisi nearly fell over herself to push the _Nurse Call_ button.

When a nurse didn’t immediately answer, Mrs. Carisi let go of Sonny’s hand. “I’ll be right back, baby,” she called as she dashed out of the room.

Sonny looked up as Rafael, tears in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey,” Sonny whispered.

“Hey,” Rafael said. He couldn’t help the smile, completely in spite of the situation, that spread over his face.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Sonny murmured.

“Always,” Rafael said. He extended his hand and brushed fingers softly over Sonny’s jaw. Sonny closed his eyes, content despite the pain in his ribs.

“I thought maybe this wasn’t real for a second,” Sonny said.

“Well, stop it,” Rafael said with a small smile.

Ms. Carisi burst back into the room with the first nurse on her heels. “And he needs more pain medicine,” she said “He’s hurting.”

Rafael tore his hand away from Sonny and shoved it back into his pocket. He returned to his position at the end of Sonny’s bed while the nurse spoke to him about his pain levels.

The nurse filled them in that Sonny had a steady morphine drip and that, while she was sorry for the pain he was feeling, they couldn’t give him any more medication.

After half a cup of water and Bella being woken up by another fit of coughing, Sonny was able to talk a bit more easily. His throat was raw and itchy from his intubation tube the day before, but he insisted he’d, “be okay after just a little more water.”

He finally gathered enough vocal ability to tell his mom and sister to go home.

“Get a shower and stuff and come back. Barba is here,” he said. “I’ll be fine for a few hours.” Sonny reassured his family as they all packed up and left, leaving Raf to care for Sonny until they returned.

After a half-hour of planning and debate, the Carisi women agreed. Until then, Rafael had mostly stood back in the corner, but as they left, he cordially promised to take care of Sonny.  
Rafael dragged the chair close to Sonny’s bedside and sat. He took Sonny’s hand, and as he looked over the body lying hurt in the hospital bed, felt tears prick his eyes.

“What are you thinking about, Sonny?” Rafael asked awkwardly, not sure what to do in a situation like this.

“I’m trying not to think of anything besides you,” Sonny said, his face falling.

Rafael pressed his lips to Sonny’s fingers. “I was so worried, Sonny. I’m so relieved you’re okay,” Rafael said. Tears spilled over Rafael’s cheeks, and Sonny squeezed his hand.

“Rafael, no, hey,” Sonny murmured. “I’m going to be just fine, Raf.”

“Don’t comfort me, Sonny,” Rafael said in a voice that was dangerously close to being a whine. “Not after all you’ve been through.”

“Raf, I’m seriously okay,” Sonny pressed. “Hey,” he tried again, “how was your weekend? Do anything fun?”

Rafael barked out a laugh and swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Not really,” he teased back. “Probably not an appropriate time, but my ass still hurts from falling on that ice.”

Sonny laughs a sad, smothered sound and croaked, “Mine too.”

Rafael scoffed. They were both well aware that Sonny wasn’t in pain from falling. “You know that we’re after those people?” Rafael asked. “They’re never going to see the light of day again.”

“Yeah,” Sonny said, closing his eyes. “Can you get me more water?”

“Sure, Sonny,” Rafael said. He pressed a kiss to Sonny’s cheek unaffected by the black eye and held his water cup while he took shallow sips.

“Do you want to watch TV? Or go back to sleep. We got you up pretty early,” Rafael ventured.

“No. Just – just talk to me, please,” Sonny said with his eyes still plastered shut.

“Of course,” Rafael took hold of Sonny’s hand once again and wracked his brain. “Have you ever been told the story of my first case with Manhattan SVU?”

…

Rafael’s pocket buzzed. He let go of sleeping Sonny’s hand and glanced at the caller I.D. Olivia. He stepped in the hallway to answer.

“Hey Liv,” he said, barely above a whisper. “What progress have you made?”

“The rape kit came back,” Olivia said, feigning a light tone. “There was one semen sample and two saliva samples. The DNA from the semen and one saliva sample had system matches.”

Rafael knew he’d asked – he knew he needed to know. But his stomach lurched at the thought of bodies on his Sonny, _hurting_ Sonny.

“But, Rafa,” Olivia continued. She sounded unsure of herself possibly for the first time since Rafael had met her. “The second saliva sample had a familial match in the system.”

“Fine. When are you – “

“Barba, listen,” Olivia interrupted. “The familial match for that sample was Fernando Barba.”

Barba bristled at hearing his father’s name.

Of _course_ Sonny didn’t shower before going UC.

 _Great_.

“I’m telling you off the books – as a friend. Obviously, you’re going to have to recuse yourself from the case, but um…” Olivia trailed off.

“Why are you assuming – ”

“You wanna correct me?” Olivia snapped.

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose and forced down the anger rising up in his chest at Olivia’s tone.

“Fine. Fine, Olivia, you’re right. Okay? Listen, it was consensual and before he went UC,” Rafael said. “Just let me tell him. Call me when you decide something.” He hung up without giving her a chance to respond.

Rafael retook his spot by Sonny’s bed and said a silent thank you that his family was still gone. Rafael took Sonny’s hand, which startled him awake.

“Hey, Sonny,” Rafael whispered.

Sonny responded with a sleepy smile. “I can’t believe you’re still here,” Sonny croaked. 

“Where else would I be?” Rafael asked, giving Sonny’s fingers a light squeeze. “Do you need anything?” 

“Water?” Sonny asked. 

“Wow, I said _anything_ and that’s what you went with,” Rafael teased. His stomach felt tight with nerves at the prospect of telling Sonny that Olivia knew about them; his _lieutenant_ knew about them. 

Rafael knew he needed to tell Sonny before someone else did but the idea of hurting him even more was sickening. He held Sonny’s water cup to his lips again and attempted to formulate how to tell Sonny. A tap on the door sent Sonny’s hand flying away from where it held on to Rafael’s fingers. 

Sonny’s quick movement jostled his elbow into his ribs. The scream he let out triggered a knee-jerk reaction in Rafael. He dropped back into his chair and reached out to grab Sonny. He pulled back at the last moment, and his hands fluttered over Sonny’s arm. He wanted to comfort him, but didn’t want to make the pain worse. “What can I do?” he asked, his words coming out more desperate than he intended. 

Sonny held his ribs and breathed heavily. “I’m fine, Raf. I’m okay. I’m okay,” he panted. 

A doctor stepped into the room. “Woah, what do we have going on in here?” she asked lightly. 

Rafael stuttered, “He - he accidentally. He moved too fast and I -” 

“I’m okay,” Sonny forced out through gritted teeth. “It’s just the ribs.” 

“Well, let me see if I can help with that,” the doctor spoke in a rush. “My name is Dr. Callie Rivera. I’ll be your primary from now essentially until you’re completely finished with rehabilitation, whenever that may be. I’d offer a handshake, Mr. Carisi, but that doesn’t seem like the best idea just now.” 

Sonny nodded, “Please, call me Sonny.” 

_No one else does_ , was on the tip of Rafael’s tongue, but he stopped short. His heart constricted when he saw the expression on Sonny’s face. Sonny was still trying hard to smile and be pleasant through the sharp pains pulsing in his side. 

“And you are?” Dr. Rivera asked, extending a hand for Rafael to shake.

He took it firmly and responded, “A friend,” at the same moment Sonny said, “Family.” 

Dr. Rivera laughed brightly. “I was looking for a name, but that works, too. Mr. Friend-Family, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out for just a few minutes while I speak with Sonny. 

“No,” Sonny said loudly. “It’s okay.” Rafael looked quizzically at Sonny, who gazed up at him pleadingly. _Don't leave me here_ , it said. 

Rafael nodded and Dr. Rivera spoke, “That is, of course, your choice.” 

Dr. Rivera spent the next several minutes performing simple tests on Sonny as well as checking his surgery incisions. Her conclusion was that it was time for Sonny to switch to a button for morphine instead of a constant drip. She said that Sonny should take it easy and that she would be back the next morning. 

When Dr. Rivera stepped out of the room, Sonny lifted his open palm off of the bed a few inches and Rafael took his hand once more. 

Rafael knew he needed to tell Sonny about his phone call with Olivia before his family got back. “Sonny, I need to tell you -”

Thankfully the Carisis did not approach the room as silently as Dr. Rivera had. Sonny and Rafael could hear the Carisi sisters bickering when they were still half a hallway away. Rafael gave Sonny a rueful look and unlaced his fingers from Sonny’s. He was quickly coming to realize that touching Sonny was far preferable to not touching Sonny. 

All five other members of the Carisi clan came crashing into the hospital room at once. Rafael took that as his cue to make a hasty exit with a promise to get Sonny’s phone from his desk drawer, and a lot to consider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone. Sorry this chapter is a little more boring, but I needed a transition segment to the next portion of the story. I hope you it was okay anyway!
> 
> Please leave comments letting me know what you think. I really want to get better as a writer and add content to the Barisi fandom. Come talk to me on Tumblr at pleaseneverchange.
> 
> And a BIG thanks to smindersonfan on Tumblr for betaing (kindly, in spite of my long absences).
> 
> Speaking of which, thank you to everyone who is reading this, even though I'm the world's slowest at putting out chapters because _school_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone. This is my first fic ever! Please leave comments letting me know what you think. I really want to get better as a writer and add content to the Barisi fandom. Come talk to me on Tumblr at pleaseneverchange. 
> 
> And a BIG thanks to smindersonfan on Tumblr for betaing (kindly, in spite of my long absences).


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